


Not So Damaged

by orphan_account



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe during "I Am Damaged" the ending could have been changed. Something could have been done. Maybe he could have been saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Damaged

**Author's Note:**

> i just need my trash children to be happy i don't want jd dead is that too much to ask

There's something to be said for your worst nightmare coming true.

It's not something that happens to most people, because most people aren't so dependent upon a crazy person. But Veronica is.

She didn't know it was her worst nightmare until it was happening right in front of her-- the love of her life (she hadn't known that either) covered in blood and bruises and dirt standing ten feet away from her, more broken than the relationship they'd tried to create, with a bomb made from his own worn hands strapped to his chest, fully prepared to leave her alone in the world.

The only reason she'd let him pry the thing out of her shaking arms was shock. She was sure that when people got shot they were supposed to...you know, DIE. His hand was pressed over the hole she'd put in his torso, blood dripping through the gaps made by his fingers. The fact that he was still alive was enough to make her heart skip a beat. 

His dramatic, end-of-my-life speech barely registered with her, her wide eyes fixed on the red numbers changing by the second.

15.  
He must have realized she wasn't really listening, because he was mostly just mumbling to himself at this point.

14.  
"Wait- hold on."

13\.   
He made no attempt to do anything about his little predicament. 

12.  
Shit, this was a bad idea, a bad, BAD idea. But if Heather Chandler had taught her anything, it was how to be selfish, and she really wasn't sure she could go on without him, no matter how demented and wrong he was. 

11.  
"Not this way."

10.  
Even the most corrupt, insane person could get help, right? Three people had already died. No need to add a forth.

9.  
"JD." He finally looked up at her, breath ragged. His dark hair blew in the gentle breeze, amber eyes half-lidded, mouth she'd known to be curled in a smirk now in a flat line- just like his heartbeat if she didn't snap the fuck out of it.

8.  
"I love you."

Time seemed to stand still as his face perked up in the slightest movements. Even with what could very well be his last 8 seconds, he still managed to give her butterflies. Dark, mysterious, sexy, and on the edge of death. Must be Veronica's type.

7.  
She was getting desperate now. "JD, please. Please don't leave me."

 

That did it. Despite his various wounds and injuries, he moved extremely quickly. The bomb was thrown as far as he could get it, and then he leapt into action, running at her. He grabbed her hand as he passed, dragging her behind him, far, far away from that football field. They made it to the parking lot, and then they both got to their knees. He pulled her to his chest, covering her ears. But she still heard the blast. A wave of panic coursed through her before she realized he was safe, and he was holding her, and they were together. He was making calming noises, rocking her back and forth and oh, shit, she was bawling.

She pried herself off his chest, looking up at him. The chatter of confused students, teachers, and staff flooding out of Westerburg filled the air, and he smiled at her, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, huffing a laugh.

"You wanna go get a slushie?"

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him desperately. "Fuck you."

There was that signature smirk. "That can be arranged." 

The bullet hole in his side was still bleeding, and that would definitely have to be fixed, but for the moment, they were together.

He cupped her cheeks. "For the record, I love you too. If it even matters at this point."

Her nose wrinkled. "It matters. I'm not saying I can possibly accept that, but maybe we can strike a deal."

He raised an eyebrow. "A deal?"

"You get help, like, serious help, and then- MAYBE- you can take me on a date."

A small smile worked its way onto his face. "I'll do anything. But maybe now we could..."  
He gestures to the bullet wound.

"Oh, shit! Yes. Sorry. Fuck."

They stood shakily, and that was it. A turning point. 

Worst nightmare resolved.


End file.
